Christmas Lights
by Miniflip999
Summary: It isn't snowing. That never happens. And its Christmas Eve. Maybe it won't really be Christmas for England. My gift to rabidfangirl666. Merry Christmas, even though it is a bit late. One-shot


**AN: I know Christmas has already passed and everything, but I really couldn't get this out of my head. This one-shot is my gift to rabidfangirl666 for being the first reviewer to the Zombie fanfic and is inspired by the song 'Christmas Lights' by Coldplay.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia kthxbai.**

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England walked down the streets of Oxford, pushing past the crowds of people. Christmas was drawing near. In fact, it was the Eve. And of course, all the nations decided to go to England's house for Christmas Eve for a meeting. Arthur huffed, his breath fogging in front of him in the chilly air. His jacket was thick, he was wearing snow boots, and gloves covered his hands. His cheeks and nose were somewhat red, and he brought up his gloved hands to rub his cheeks a little to keep them warm. It was so cold, and yet, it wasn't even snowing. Only one thought really crossed his mind:

Why? Why wasn't it snowing? It always snowed. The soft, white flakes were always drifting slowly to the ground around this time of year. Why was it failing to do so?

The Brit sighed as he continued walking. Even though he hated rain, he absolutely loved snow. Snow. It covered the ground with its pure whiteness, cleaning everything and blanketing the world in a soft powder. Snow started everything anew, blocking out the dark colors of everything else. Snow made him happy; it brought him hope—hope that fluttered in his heart like a bird in its cage, waiting for the chance to finally see the sun. And yet… And yet, that hope wasn't there today.

Arthur looked up at the sky, recalling a song by one of his bands that had been made recently. He sang the lyrics to himself, not caring who looked or heard. "I took my feet to Oxford Street, trying to right a wrong. Just walk away, those windows say. But I can't believe she's gone…" Oh, the bloody irony. He was walking along Oxford Street right now, heading towards a bloody meeting with the other nations. England stopped for a second and stared into one of the windows of a shop he was passing by. The lights were off, the shop closed for the night. He sighed heavily, walking away with his eyes to the ground, his breath a cloud in front of his face as it left his lips.

He passed the orphanage he liked to visit during the holidays, casting a slight glance in the direction of the yard as he walked by, seeing the children playing. It made him smile. He turned back to his current path. The meeting building was looming before him now, looking dull without the cleanliness of snow to make it bright. He entered the building and trudged up the stairs, not bothering to take the elevator, being late already anyway. Arthur walked through the doors into the meeting room and all eyes went to him. Even America was there already—surprise, surprise.

"Hey! Iggy! How come you're so late? That's so unlike you!" the American exclaimed loudly, eyes gleaming with amusement at the thought that he had actually arrived earlier than England.

"It's nothing important," the Englishman sighed, running his fingers through his hair before taking a seat near one of the large windows overlooking the city. He leaned his chin in his hand and stared out at the gray sky, willing for it to snow already. The clouds promptly ignored his silent plea and continued to dim the bright sun. Arthur was only vaguely aware of Ludwig speaking at the front of the room and the current arguments prompted by yet another exclamation by Alfred. England didn't even really notice, too intent on busying himself in staring out at the city lights.

The Brit was lost in his own little world, and was brought back into reality by the sound of someone continuously poking his shoulder and saying his name. "Arthur. Arthur. Arthur… Arthur?" Said man turned to glare at the annoyance that was touching him and ruining his peaceful moment. Of course, it was America who happened to be said annoyance.

"What do you want?" England hissed between his teeth, unhappy with the fact that the American had bothered him, wanting to get back to his other thoughts, not wanting to have anything to do with the meeting, seeing as there shouldn't even have been one.

"Nothing. You seemed to be falling asleep, so I came to wake you up. You can thank the Hero later!" America laughed and turned to Germany before England could come up with a retort. "Hey! I think we should have a break. Besides, it's close to lunch time anyway." The American smiled brightly as Germany complied with his request, and the meeting was dismissed until two o' clock.

England simply stood up and walked out onto the balcony just outside the meeting room. Staring out at the city and its colorful Christmas lights, the song from earlier found its way back into his thoughts. He started to sing softly once more. "When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, it doesn't really feel like Christmas at all…" he sang quietly, unaware that America stood by the door and listened to him, admiring the song.

"A cup of candles, oh they flicker. Oh, they flicker and they float. And I'm up here holding onto all those chandeliers of hope. Like some drunkard Elvis singing, I go singing out of tune," he breathed softly, letting the lyrics slip past his lips naturally, uncaring that some other countries had gathered with Alfred to listen. "Saying how I always loved you, darling. And I always will…" He paused at this point, staring up at the gray sky once more.

Soft flakes were floating down now, the little white specks falling around him. He continued on, singing more softly now, letting the lyrics of the song come to him. "Oh when you're still waiting for the snow to fall, it doesn't really feel like Christmas at all. You're still waiting for the snow to fall. It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all…" He trailed off, hearing the song ringing throughout the city now, not just him singing; the actual song. A smile found its way to his lips as he watched the snow falling to the ground, covering brown soil and gray road with a soft white blanket. The Christmas lights sparkled among the gentle white flakes.

Arthur turned around and dashed past everyone, not bothering to stop and talk to them, running down the stairs and bursting through the doors into the snow, sprinting towards the orphanage, intent on getting there. He always did have a soft spot for children, after all. The English nation finally reached the street, smiling as the sight of children playing in the snow greeted his eyes. Speakers played the song while kids threw snowballs, made snowmen, and drank tea and hot chocolate. A couple of children caught sight of Arthur and exclaimed happily, "Mister Kirkland!"

A group of kids soon surrounded England, faces beaming, cheeks flushed, and grins decorating their faces. "Mister Kirkland! You were right! The snow _did_ come!" a small girl shouted happily. Arthur smiled and patted her head.

"It did indeed. Now, let's enjoy the snow, shall we?"

The little girl took Arthur's hand and started to lead him to the front porch when, to his right, a barrage of snowballs came flying and pelted him in the shoulder. His head turned to the direction of the projectiles, seeing a couple of the teens making said snowballs and laughing hard. England smirked, reached down and gathered some snow together. When the teens weren't looking, the British nation sent the ball of snow hurtling their way, where the weapon hit its target, hitting one of the boys in the back. Soon, snowballs were flying everywhere in a sudden battle.

The other nations arrived at the front of the orphanage to be greeted with an unexpected sight: Arthur, of all people, was having a snowball fight with a bunch of children. And he actually looked… happy. He was smiling—an actual smile. Not the broken ones he had nowadays. They watched as a group of kids chased Arthur around the yard, pelting him with frozen water. It was humorous to watch. But the usually grumpy Brit wasn't yelling; he was laughing. Hard. Arthur had, in fact, collapsed to the ground laughing, the kids surrounding him and laughing with him. The other nations were too surprised by this spectacle to interfere.

Once England and the other kids had calmed down from their laughing fits, they simply sat there and listened to the music. Arthur finally noticed the other nations and stood up, brushing himself off, still smiling and eyes still dancing with delight. When had been the last time he had had so much fun? He turned to all the children. "Now, would you like to come with me and some friends to go see the lights? I'm sure it would be good fun." This suggestion was met with a chorus of happy replies of agreement from both the orphans and the group of nations still standing by the gate.

The song still played loudly throughout the city as they walked; admiring the lights everywhere they went. Alfred couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the children; they had made Arthur smile a real smile for once. But at the same time, it filled Alfred with joy to see the Brit so happy.

"Would you look at that…" muttered Arthur, gazing up at a large tree decorated with lights, snow landing on the branches and collecting there. The song continued playing, reaching the chorus now.

…_When you're still waiting for the snow to fall_

_ It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all._

_Those Christmas lights, light up the street_

_Down where the sea and city meet._

_May all your troubles soon be gone._

_Oh, Christmas lights keep shining on._

England smiled joyfully again. The song was right. It never really did feel like Christmas unless the snow was falling. But then, the Christmas lights made everything brighter.

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**So, what did you think? Please review! Reviews make me happy. :D**


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